


No Magic Required

by Filmsterr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Dean is a Sweetheart, Human Dean Winchester, M/M, Memory Issues, Minor Angst, Mostly Fluff, Secrets, Witch Castiel, per usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-21 21:49:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13749903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filmsterr/pseuds/Filmsterr
Summary: Cas really wants to tell his boyfriend the truth about him. The first five times, it hasn't gone so well. Not that Dean remembers.





	No Magic Required

**Author's Note:**

> I have been D Y I N G to write a witch!Cas story for so long, and this little cherry popped up into my head recently and I couldn't get it out. I KNOW I have other projects to work on but I was just in the mood to write some drabble so this is what you're getting. 
> 
> Would love to hear you thoughts in comments and kudos. xoxox
> 
> (Also fair warning that this depicts a fairly stereotypical, cheesy version of witches. I have several friends who are self-proclaimed witches and I respect the shit out of their lifestyle. I don't mean to offend anyone-- this is just for fun!)

Cas has been planning this for weeks. He’s thought of about a thousand different ways to that he can do it, ranging from grand gestures with flowers and fancy dinners to just driving around in Dean’s car with an empty stretch of country road in front of them. 

So, when it happens one sunny summer day, just as the sky outside is turning a lovely periwinkle color, even he’s surprised by the words leaving his mouth. 

They’re lying on Dean’s bed, on top of the perfectly made covers (courtesy of Dean’s mom, obviously). His parents are out for the night, and his little brother is happily distracted by some video game in the family room downstairs. Dean has fully taken advantage of this fact, relishing in the rare occasion that he gets to kiss Cas to his heart’s desire, without rush or worry, and without being cramped in a backseat or frozen cold pressed up against the side of somebody’s house at a party in who knows where. 

Castiel is also relishing in this sacred, private bubble they’ve formed. He adores getting to have Dean all to himself-- not that it’s all that rare, but. Dean is such a people person, he tends to share himself between everyone in the room. Toss a few winks at the girls and a couple of smiles at the guys, so everybody feels like they’ve been touched by the warmth of the rays his presence shines out. 

Which is great. Castiel loves getting to watch people bloom under the sunlamp of his smile. But he prefers to have that light solely focused on him, when he has the chance.

So today is nice. 

He’s enjoying it so much that he might be a little hazy in his thoughts, a little removed from the real world. Especially when Dean starts kissing down his neck and over his collar bone, when his hands start grabbing at some particularly daring pieces of flesh. 

“You’re so cute.” Dean bares his teeth, and it’s so sexy it drives Castiel wild. “Everything you do, I love when we get to be alone like this.”

“I’m a witch,” Cas moans in response, totally out of nowhere and without reason and why _why did he say that oh jesus christ he can’t even believe_

“You’re a what?”

Dean pulls his head back to regard Castiel, with his thick eyebrows furrowed in the center of his forehead. He looks the picture of a dumb jock, which Castiel feels guilty for thinking and is also one hundred percent aware a a symptom of his own projection. He’s stalling, wishing he hadn’t let those words slip out of his mouth and at a complete loss of what to do now. 

“Cas, what did you just--”

“ _Memoria vim extermina,”_ he mutters, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the pillow. 

Dean blinks a few times in a row. It’s not helping the dumb jock look. 

“You all right, babe?” asks Cas without looking at him. His voice is flat. He is so pissed at himself. 

Dean stays perched above him, the muscles in his forearms twitching. “Yeah. Yeah. I just got a weird feeling… sorry about that.”

Cas tells him it’s alright and they go back to fooling around for a while, but it’s hard to get into it the same way. Eventually he tells Dean he’s tired, and Dean understands because of course he would, he’s the perfect boyfriend, and they go downstairs hand in hand to spend some time playing with Sam. 

After Dean’s initial reaction, Cas isn’t exactly jumping at the chance to go making any more major confessions. Or rather, the same major confession, but… more permanently. As time goes by, though, it starts to feel more and more unfair to Dean. Cas really, _really_ like Dean, and he like to think Dean likes him just as much. 

But he _can’t_ , not really, not if he doesn’t know everything there is to know about Castiel. It’s… it’s not really giving him a full chance; giving _them_ a full chance. 

So, Cas tries again. 

He does not want to have to wipe Dean’s memory again. Even if he knows that it doesn’t do any damage, it’s not ideal to have to manipulate your boyfriend with a spell, right? Cas has never used magic on Dean before. Maybe on himself and things around them, to better help him impress Dean or make Dean smile or feel more comfortable. But never on Dean himself. It feels like cheating-- worse than cheating, even. Doing something to Dean without his consent… that’s not Cas. 

So needless to say, it had better go well this time. 

The second go-around, Castiel opts for the big show. He takes a whole morning and finds his perfect setting- it’s the rooftop of an apartment building on the edge of town- and he sets up a beautiful display. He hangs fairy lights and colored streamers, lays down the comfiest blanket he can find. He even brings champagne (well- sparkling cider. He’s a witch, but he’s not a miracle worker. He's still only seventeen).

When Dean shows up to meet him, his face glows with wonder. It’s all Cas can do to remind himself that they’re there for a very specific reason, and that reason is not to lay down on that blanket on go to town on each other’s bodies. But, maybe after. If things go well. 

Cas has brought a picnic- he’s nowhere near as talented in the kitchen as Dean is, so it’s mostly small things. Dean acts like it’s the best meal he’s ever had, which makes Cas feel so much more giddy than is necessary. 

After they eat, they inch closer to one another. Dean’s hand covers Castiel’s, and the contact only serves as a gut-punch reminder as to why Cas has brought him here. _Time to do this_ , he tells himself, since he can’t very well put it off forever. 

Castiel refills their plastic cups. Dean watches him, intently, and then opens his mouth. “What’s with the big to-do?” 

He takes the cider Castiel is offering and sips from it gently. Castiel can feel the nervous tickle itching at the back of his throat, but he forces himself to stay strong. “Dean, I need to tell you something.”

Dean, for his part, appears unconcerned. He answers with a subtle raise of the eyebrows and nothing more. 

_Here we go again._

“I’m a witch.”

The instant loud and sputtering noise was not exactly what Castiel had anticipated. Cider goes flying through the air and dribbling down the front of Dean’s shirt. “C-- C--” he chokes out, “You--”

Castiel closes his eyes and winces. He’d tried so hard to make this perfect; to make it soft and welcoming and for it to be so easy for Dean. 

All this set up for nothing. “ _Memoria vim extermina.”_

Again, Dean blinks for a few seconds. Cas offers him dessert, and then they cuddle under the stars. It’s as if nothing ever happened. 

Except for the ever-increasing guilt that rises in Castiel with each failed attempt, and each memory erase spell. 

This whole thing is beginning to sit quite heavily on Cas’ mind. He wants to share this thing about him with Dean. He’s determined to. But every time he tries it seems more and more impossible to get it right. 

Some weeks later, they’re at a friend’s house for a party. Dean is by his side, holding his hand, but Castiel’s mind is off somewhere else. 

_Take him to a restaurant? No, that’s much too public. Maybe in--_

Suddenly, a nose is brushing up against his cheek. He turns, and the captivating green of Dean’s eyes hits him full force. 

“Come with me,” he’s told by a voice that makes him shiver from the base of his spine down to his toes. Before he can argue (like he would anyway) Dean drags him down the hall and tugs him behind a closed door. It’s a bathroom is all he can makes out before the door is slammed shut behind him. The lights stay off. 

“Where are you, huh?” Dean mutters, nuzzling into the crook of Castiel’s neck. “Your brain’s so far away.”

Dean is drunk. It’s cute on him, but Castiel is wondering when he had consumed enough for that to happen? Cas frowns, realizing that he really hasn’t been paying enough attention, apparently. 

He himself is barely buzzed. He’s been holding onto a solo cup all night, but if it’s been refilled it’s been someone, not him. 

“You’re so distracted lately, baby.” Dean’s teeth begin to tug at the taut skin of his neck, and suddenly Castiel’s thoughts are a little less linear. “Let me fix that, huh?”

“Dean,” he breathes, “I’m a witch.”

Dean pulls his head away and runs his eyes over Cas’ face, inspecting. His own eyes are shrewd, squinting. There’s a hardness to them, irises that are somehow ever darker than the lack of light in this room. It turns playful in a matter of seconds. 

“Okay,” he responds with a wolfish smile. “We’ve never done this before.” He returns to his post at Castiel’s neck and begins to whisper hotly in his ear. 

“You’re a witch and I’m… a witch hunter, and I’m out to get you…”

Castiel rolls his eyes and relents, letting his body relax while Dean tries his best to worship it without any clue what he’s missing. Castiel considers leaving it: Dean is drunk and probably won’t remember this conversation at all. But still, in the off chance that he wakes up tomorrow morning and rethinks on the night’s activities…. 

“ _Memoria vim extermina.”_ Dean blinks, Cas kisses him back to normal, and everything is right in the world once more. Ish. 

This is only getting harder and harder. 

The next time, it’s sort of a throwaway. They’re at a concert, and Dean’s so excited and wrapped up in everything that Cas feels entranced by him. He feels safe, sort of like he’s hiding in plain sight. 

So he lets it slip. “Dean!” he calls out, trying to get his boyfriend’s attention, “Dean! I really want you to know: I’m a witch!”

They’re right up against the stage, mixed up in the madness of hundreds of other teenagers screaming their lungs out. Dean doesn’t even turn his head in Cas’ direction. He’s too busy shouting along to the music, with the biggest, goofiest grin on his face. Cas can’t even be mad. A little disappointed, maybe, but Dean’s joy is so infectious. 

At least he doesn’t have to wipe his memory this time. 

The time after that, Cas is feeling pretty low. Nearly defeated, you could say. He takes a long time to think about how he wants to do this; when he wants to do this; where he wants to do this. 

The setting is important. He wants somewhere where Dean feels at ease, where he’s mostly like to take the news well. But also somewhere, as he’d learned from his last two attempts, where Castiel could have his full attention.

The answer is right in front of him, of course. He shouldn’t have even had to think on it. 

He holds off, telling himself sheepishly that he’s waiting for the right moment. Then he says he’ waiting for the right destination, for a good time of day. In the end, though, he ends up going with his gut. 

They’re driving down a long stretch of highway, the sky overcome with a burning kind of orange, the horizon just one big long expanse seen through the windshield of the Impala. Dean looks gorgeous in the evening light. As per usual.

Cas has his hand laying across the front seat and Dean’s rests on top of it. Castiel thinks that this moment must be what pure, unfiltered happiness feels like, and wishes he could bottle it up to remember later. Just in case he needs it. He could manufacture all the happiness in the world, he knows the spell to do it; but it could never feel as good as this. He knows that for sure.

He turns in his seat to face Dean, whose lips curl in amusement. “Something on your mind, babe?” he asks. 

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Cas takes a moment to center himself. He clears his throat once, twice. Finally, he’s ready… for the fifth time. “Dean, there’s something you have to know if you want to keep dating me.”

Dean answers with a set of pursed lips as his eyes flicker off the road for a second toward Castiel. 

“I’m… I’m a witch.”

For a minute the warmth of the late summer evening is almost off-putting, overwhelming. The hair on the back of Castiel’s neck starts to drip with perspiration and he just wants Dean to say something. 

Instead, he laughs. A big, boisterous kind of laugh that Castiel would love if it weren’t at his expense. Dean’s eyes sneak a furtive glance at him just as Cas slides down against the back of the seat. 

“Cas, I’m serious, tell me what it is.”

“I am being serious. I’m a witch.”

It must be the morose tone of Castiel’s voice that makes Dean do a double take. More than a double take, in fact. His eyes flicker back and for so many long seconds until they freeze on Cas's face and his pupils turn into black little dots. 

“What are you--”

“Dean, look at the road!”

Dean does, and with not a moment to be spared. Even Castiel’s magic couldn’t have saved them from the oncoming truck that the Impala had begun drifting carelessly towards. At the very last second, Dean pulls a hard left and jerks them back into their own lane, and then onto the breakdown lane where he parks the car.

Cas doesn’t even waste a breath before he exhales the words, “ _Memoria vim extermina.”_ He isn’t totally sure how he is going to explain being parked on the side of the interstate when Dean finishes blinking, but honestly he doesn’t care. He just wants one of them to forget that the last five minutes had ever happened. 

Even if Dean can’t remember, Cas is still thoroughly shook by their near-death experience. He apologizes to Dean, tells him he wants to go home, and leaves him with a lackluster kiss on the cheek as a parting gift. Then he slinks off into his room and collapses into the reading nook with a heavy heart. 

Only minutes later, comes the arrival of a very annoying voice with a shrill, “Knock, knock.”

Castiel rolls over in frustration. “You could just knock.”

Gabe steps into the room- _uninvited_ , Castiel shrewdly notes- and seats himself down onto Cas’ bed like it’s his own. “Could do, should do, won’t do. Let’s not get tied up with all that.” He flips his hand around like the gesture is supposed to mean something. Castiel rolls his eyes and turns away, focusing his attention on the stack of cushions beneath him. 

“You seem a lil glum, teen witch. What’s got you buggin’?”

Castiel considers for a moment. It could be argued that it’s better to talk this over with Gabe than with no one. It could also be argued that peeing on a jellyfish sting is better than letting it be. 

He flips over once more and looks up to where his brother is seated. “I don’t know if I can ever tell Dean the truth.”

“That you’re a total freaking dweeb?”

Cas levels a look at Gabe. “About us. About our magic.”

Gabriel hums at this. He takes on an uncharacteristically serious regard as he looks down at Cas. “What makes you think that?”

Here goes. “Well, I’ve tried about a million times now,” Cas informs him, sitting up suddenly as his voice grows louder in pitch, “and immediately after each time I have had to tamper with his brain because he always looks at me with this wide, disbelieving eyes and I get so scared to hear what he’s going to say that I- I… stop looking at me like that!”

He thinks about levitating a pillow and chucking it across the room at Gabe, but then he remembers the last time he used his powers against his brother and the way his mom had completely freaked out on him. And it’s too much effort to do it by hand. So instead, he settles for a harsh glare and slumps back onto the pillows. 

Gabe, meanwhile, is failing in his attempt to hold back a laugh at his expense. “I’m sorry. It’s just… have you let the guy get a word in edgewise?”

“What does that even mean?” Cas stares up at the ceiling, despondent. 

“I mean, have you let him finish a sentence after you drop the bomb? Literally, one sentence.”

Cas frowns as he reflects back on their conversation today, and the several that preceded it. “I-- Well... it was in his eyes, Gabe.”

Speaking of eyes, Gabriel rolls his up to the ceiling and shakes his head as if this entire thing is thoroughly exhausting for him. He pushes himself off the bed and stands in front of Castiel with his arms crossed. 

“Look-- you like this kid, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” The indignation with which Cas squawks out his answer is proof enough to him of that fact.

“Well, great. Maybe you oughtta give him the courtesy of trusting him then.” Gabe’s voice is hard, but when Castiel finally looks up to his brother’s face, he finds a somewhat sympathetic look there. “Just… do it once as if you didn’t have magic.”

Castiel’s frown deepens. 

“You keep falling back on the spell because you know it’s in your back pocket. If you didn’t have it, then you’d be stuck once you told him, and you’d have to wait to hear what he’s got to say about it.”

Gabe turns away then, like he’s going to leave the room in a cloud of sageness and wisdom. “Look, I don’t want to go all ‘big brother’ on you, but… if he’s worth all this worrying, then he’ll be cool with it.”

“Are people normally cool with it?” Cas himself has no reference. The only person he’s ever told was Charlie, and she’d immediately turned around and asked to join his coven (which was both adorable and inaccurate). 

Gabe shrugs. “Don’t really know. Never told anyone before.”

He leaves just in time to escape the pillow that Cas does levitate and chuck across the room. 

Well, his advice might as well be garbage if it doesn’t have any real-world experience to back it up. Right? Leave it to Gabe to let his mouth run all night about things he has no clue about for himself. But… well, he does raise a point or two. 

Castiel hasn’t let Dean respond to his confession. Not really. And wasn’t that the point of this whole thing at the beginning? To be fair to Dean; to give their relationship a real shot? 

Cas reflects on this, lying down in his reading nook. He pulls out his phone and stares down at his reflection on the screen. He wonders what Dean is doing right now, in his own bedroom, on the other side of town. 

If he could reach his crystal ball, he could know for himself in a matter of seconds. But somehow that prospect doesn’t seem terribly appealing right now. 

Well, one more time can’t hurt. 

Dean answers on the first ring. He never keeps Castiel waiting, it’s something Cas thinks speaks volumes about him. 

“I have to talk to you,” Cas says, chewing on his bottom lip. It’s better just be direct.

“Good,” comes the reply, with a funny voice, “because I have to talk to you, too.”

Dean’s response makes Castiel’s eyes go wide and his heart beat a little faster inside his chest. What if he knows? What if somehow he found out the truth about Castiel and now he’s coming to confront him? What if the memory removal spell was faulty and Dean knows what Castiel did to him, and he’s furious about it? 

Cas swallows down all his emotion and agrees to have the conversation at his house. Dean will be over shortly. From the second they hang up, Castiel is a mess of nerves and pretty much only running on basic human instincts. Dean has never been in his room before. Prior to tonight, that had been a calculated decision. In a way, this is, too. 

He takes a moment to look around at all of the magical things that are strewn about his room. A spell book here, a couple of crystals there. Before, he would have taken a lot of care to stow those things away before he allowed Dean in. Today, he’s leaving them where they are. 

Thirty minutes later, exactly as advertised, Dean is crossing the threshold into his bedroom. There’s nothing on his face to indicate anger or betrayal, that’s at the very least a good sign for Castiel.

He’s not avoiding eye contact either, but he doesn’t go in for a kiss when he enters the room. Castiel isn’t bothered by that, but he is surprised by the way his body expects-- nearly demands-- to be in contact with Dean’s whenever they’re in close proximity. 

Dean goes right to Cas’ bed and takes a seat on it. His eyes take a quick tour of his surroundings, his expression remaining politely neutral all the while. "I like your room,” he says eventually, though Cas wonders how observant he’s been. 

Dean folds his hands together in his lap and lowers his eyes back to Cas. He waits, expectantly, for Castiel to begin.

So there’s not much else for Cas to do then.

He slides next to Dean on the bed and takes Dean’s hand into his. He reminds himself to maintain eye contact, and to be brave. He can do this. 

“Dean,” he says carefully, “I care about you. I think it’s important, in a relationship… one like ours, we both respect and care for each other... I already the caring thing, didn’t I?” He spares a nervous glance up to Dean, who quirks a sympathetic grin at him. That’s somewhat encouraging. “I’m sorry, I’m having a hard time getting the words out… I just want to be honest with you, and I-I hope you will be with me, too.”

He shakes his head and gives himself the push he needs to make the final leap. “Okay, I’m just going to go for it: Dean… I’m a witch.”

“ --I love you, too.”

The breath Castiel had been holding in hiccups in his throat. “What did you just say?” he demands in a panic, around the same time that Dean’s eyes go wide and he cries out, “Wait, what?”

Cas’ lips tremble momentarily. No-- no time to falter now. He just had the confidence a moment ago, he can get it back now. 

He straightens his back and lifts his head. “I’m a witch.”

Dean gulps audibly. It’s like something out of a cartoon. It would be endearing, in another setting. He eyes Castiel quickly and inquires, “A witch?” Castiel gives a succinct nod. “Like magic spells, black cats, broomsticks kind of deal?”

“Something like that.” A little stereotypical, but not too far off the mark. Cas can forgive Dean the slight… 

… that is, if Dean doesn’t go running off first.

It’s hard to tell what’s going through Dean’s mind. Cas tries to place himself in the shoes of someone just now finding out about witchcraft for the first time in his life. He gives up almost immediately, it’s a fruitless exercise- and anyways he knows that he’s just trying to distract himself from how scared he is of what Dean’s real reaction will be. The one he doesn’t erase. 

And scared is exactly what he is. He’s terrified, watching Dean’s face as it changes, taking in every minute change of his skin

Dean leans back onto the mattress and Castiel’s chest grows tight. The incantation burns on his lips, but he holds back. Not this time. 

Finally, Dean shrugs his shoulders and puffs out a breath of air. “Well, that explains the décor.”

Floored may very well be an understatement for what Castiel feels. 

“You’re…. you’re not freaked out?” he stammers, unable to control his emotions. 

“I mean, not really.” Dean looks up, and behind the sheepish azure of his eyes Castiel can find no malice. “I guess I don’t… know enough about to to be freaked out. You know?” He pauses for a moment and looks around the room. “But... you can tell me about it, if you want. I want to know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s you. I wanna know everything about you.” 

Castiel has no idea how he got so lucky to have Dean; who wants him for him, no matter what. And he got him all on his own. No magic required. (Well, a _little_ magic required.) 

A heady giggle escapes him, and he exhales a quick sigh of relief. He’s proud of himself for being honest, even when it was hard. And he’s proud of Dean, for a million reasons. This merits a good kiss, he reckons, leaning in to do just that when something strikes him. 

“What did you say before?” he asks breathlessly, the very thought of the words stealing all the air in his lungs.

“Oh,” Dean turns a very flattering shade of pink up to his ears as he ducks away, “I… said I love you. Actually, I said I love you _too_ , ‘cause I though that’s where I thought you were going with--”

Before he can finish the thought, Castiel rushes forward to throw his arms around Dean and connect their mouths with a tender brush of the lips. Dean leans in somewhat reflexively, deepening the kiss by letting his tongue slip out and into Cas’ mouth. 

Cas draws back and smiles, grazing the tip of his nose against Dean’s. “I love you,” he whispers gently, “...too.”

That one simple sentence seems to be exactly what Dean needed to hear. He wraps his arms even tighter around Castiel and pulls him close, his teeth nipping every so often at the chapped skin of Cas’ bottom lip. 

After a moment, Dean break away. His eyes go narrow and he regards Castiel in a sideways kind of way. “You didn’t go using some kind of love spell on me, did you…?”

Castiel couldn’t possibly be more mortified. “Oh my God!” he cries out, “No, of course not, Dean, I would _never_ …” 

The sentence trails off as he sees the smirk on Dean’s face stretch wider and wider. An arm reaches out and pulls him in for a lopsided hug.

“I’m just kidding,” soothes Dean, pressing another kiss into the soft mop of hair atop Castiel’s head. “And, anyway. You wouldn’t have needed some dumb spell anyway.”

Oh, how those words make Castiel feel better than anything else in the entire world. 

He has _actually_ flown through the air before, but somehow Dean’s flattery makes him feel so much higher than anything like that has ever done. 

And now that he thinks of it….

“Hey, come with me.” He stands up to his feet and turns around, offering a hand and pulling Dean with him. “I want to show you something.”

When Dean narrows his eyes this time, it’s much more telling. “What is it?” he questions warily. 

“Just one of the many perks of having a cool witch boyfriend. I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

“Cas, what does that mean?” Dean’s voice takes on a squeaky kind of panic that Castiel has never heard before but truthfully he finds quite cute. “I don’t like flying, Cas. Not on an airplane and for sure not… tell me where we’re going. Cas!”

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I'm a sucker for Big Brother Gabriel being a guiding voice of reason. I actually tried really hard to cut that scene out, but I couldn't seem to write my way around it.


End file.
